


Claim me

by IntoTheFade



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Lavellan/Solas Angst (Dragon Age), Omega Verse, One Shot, Solas (Dragon Age) is Grim and Fatalistic, Sub Solas (Dragon Age), Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27845107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheFade/pseuds/IntoTheFade
Summary: Angsty one-shot of an omega Solas going through a heat. Lavellan's alpha status has been awakened by the anchor, but the Dread Wolf ended things in Crestwood and now he's a broken mess. She goes to him anyway.This started out as a bit of harmless smut and instead turned into a bit of smut with a LOT of feelings. Oops.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas, Lavellan & Solas
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Claim me

There were many things the elves of the new world had forgotten or had stolen from them since the Fall. Their language. Their history. In many cases, their pride. But there was one side-effect of the veil that Solas hadn’t predicted or understood; not until he first woke and wandered among them. 

Their biology had changed as well.

In the time before, the Elvhen were separated not just along lines of society and skill, but along the lines of their most primal drives. Alpha. Omega. Beta.

Alphas took. Omegas gave. Alphas were driven to rule and protect. Omegas to serve and obey. Betas could pass unnoticed by both until discovering their mate from either class, and in this storm of biology, sex was frequent and necessary. Bonding and childbearing, however, were rare, reserved only for true life-partners – kindred spirits, identifiable by their scent.

In such a long-lived world, it wasn’t uncommon for an alpha to live a thousand years or more before finding their younger omega. Less common – and more painful – was for an omega to be born long before their alpha, and so forced to suffer through thousands of heats alone before being claimed. 

The manner of his class was the first true thing Fen’Harel rebelled against. An omega, he nevertheless took his place among the pantheon of alphas, and refused any calls to submit. It had taken him centuries to successfully deny that most primal drive, using the power in a veil-less world to hide his scent, push back against his instincts, stop a heat in its tracks and fight for an equal place in the world.

With the veil in place, he found his instincts dulled even further, and despite the aching loneliness of being an omega without a mate, he couldn’t help but be grateful. These new elves may have known the stories of the ancients, of the alphas and omegas. Some, he noticed, even possessed some small memory towards the same, but they were poor representations of what had been. At least in this, they wouldn’t tempt him to stray from his path. 

That was, until his mark had burnt into her hand, and reawakened a dormant state that should never have been there to begin with.

He hadn’t noticed it at first. She was simply a puzzle to be solved. Ellana Lavellan, the Dalish elf that had stolen his magic by accident, and against all odds, survived. Only later, did she become a surprising friend. Logical. Curious. Bright. Indomitable. A rarity in this world of shades.

And, if her sparkling green eyes drew his gaze, or her waterfall of red hair tempted him to touch, or his eyes lingered a little too long on her lips… Well, he had been alone for thousands of years. It was only natural to appreciate beauty where he found it.

That was all it had been. Friendship. A glimmer of attraction. An appreciation for someone so unique. Until she had kissed him in the Fade, and her scent had roared up his nose like a lightning bolt and set his nerves aflame.

Sweet like burnt sugar, heady as syrupy wine, and undeniably, irrefutably, for _him_ . 

He had reached for her before he’d known what he was doing, crushing his lips to hers as every buried instinct sang in his blood and exulted in his veins.

_Alpha. Alpha. Alpha._

He had finally found his mate.

The weeks that followed that first kiss were some of the hardest of his considerably difficult life. Now awoken, he found her scent irresistible and nearly impossible to ignore. When she curled up on the sofa in the rotunda, talking guilelessly, he was forced to sit behind his desk, clutching at the wood in a desperate effort not to reach for her again.

He woke in the night, aching and hard, the memory of her lips burning through his skin. 

He watched her for signs that she knew what was happening; that the mark had gifted her the knowledge that she was his. That he was hers. That in all of the world and the Fade, they were meant only for each other. 

Sometimes, he thought he saw it in the flash of her eyes. A certain subtle shift in her voice that screamed _alpha_ and _obey_ when their debates became too heated. But then, just as quickly as it came, it would be gone, and he would be left trembling and disgusted with himself for how desperately he longed to kneel at her feet.

Thousands of years of repressing the urge, and in a few short weeks, he was at her mercy. It horrified and delighted him in equal measure.

He didn’t want to submit. Could never imagine himself obeying without question. But he did want to be claimed – by her. Only, by her. He knew already that she would not be like the others who’d attempted to make him theirs. She abhorred slavery as much as him. Valued free will as she valued freedom. Her drive wasn’t to conquer, but to protect. 

He had been cast into the role of destroyer and protector for too long, wounding himself repeatedly in the process. But when her scent filled his nose and her fingers brushed tenderly against his, he discovered that he wanted nothing more than to be cared for after all. That was the natural order. For an omega to be protected by their mate. To be kept safe. 

To be loved.

His whole body burned with desire, and he _yearned_ . 

Repressing his heat had never been more important. He had no doubt that should one break through, he would be powerless to resist, but the People still needed him to be strong. He couldn’t allow himself to stray.

And so, he made bitter teas of elfroot and herbs to dampen his drive. 

He sought her out, against his better judgement. He kissed her again. He fell in love.

_Ellana._

_Vhenan._

__

_Alpha_. 

__

_Mate._

He made poultices into scent blockers and cast pale imitations of his former suppressant spells to keep his heat at bay. It worked. It kept working.

Until the month after Crestwood, where he’d shattered both of their hearts.

He woke in the early hours of the morning, curled up on the rotunda’s sofa, and knew that something wasn’t right. His skin was burning, like ants were running down the back of his neck. His tunic was stuck to his body with sweat, and his cock was hard and needy between his legs.

He lurched upright at once, panic making his chest heavy and his throat tight.

_No. No. Not now. Please._

His heart pounded and he rushed to his desk, foregoing the tea to cram the elfroot into his mouth and chew, desperate to stop what was happening. He knew, as he did it, that he was already too late.

His hands tingled, and even though she hadn’t been to see him in days, his nose seemed to pick out her scent from across the castle, sending a pulse of need through him that nearly sent him flying from the room and to her quarters to beg. Instead, he turned tail and ran, up the stairs and along the corridor, slamming the door to his small bedroom behind him and locking it with shaking hands.

Only when he was safely locked away, did he allow himself to descend completely into delirium, sinking down onto his bed and clutching the pillow tightly against his chest. Even so, he couldn’t stop his hips from rocking against the bed, or the tears that sprang to his eyes. 

Unbonded heats were a torture; a cocktail of conflicting urges that could make even the strongest omega lapse into hopelessness. 

Even without an alpha nearby, the sudden rush of hormones was known to trigger intense feelings that were easily confused, and difficult to ignore. Inadequacy. Rejection. Even if there was no-one around to be rejected by, his hormones insisted that being unbonded during a heat was a sign of being unwanted. Inadequate. Unloveable.

In this state, his loneliness burnt hotter than a flame, and he was powerless to rationalise around it.

He had endured these heats alone before in Arlathan, locking himself away and riding it out in secret. But there was never an alpha nearby then. More importantly, there was never _his_ alpha nearby then, her scent addling his senses still further and provoking the most potent feelings of abandonment he could ever remember experiencing.

He ground his hips desperately into the bed as tears tumbled down his face and drenched the pillow beneath him.

“Alpha,” he sobbed. “Alpha, alpha, alpha.”

His body _burned_ . She should be here with him. He shouldn’t have to do this alone. Not now that he’d found her. Why wasn’t she here?

He choked. She wasn’t here because he’d sent her away. He’d rejected his alpha. How could he? There was no greater shame for an omega. With his skin burning and his thoughts feverish, his mind rebelled against what he’d done. He was broken. Wrong. Ungrateful. Unworthy.

Worthless.

He howled.

“Vhenan,” he mewled into his pillow. “Vhenan, ir abelas. Ar isalan na.”

He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He couldn’t stand it.

_Alpha, please._

***

Ellana wakes early. The sun is already up, but still light and pale through her window. For a long moment, she isn’t sure what it is that’s woken her, and then her body reacts like a spring. She launches herself from the bed, the scent of herbs and smoke and parchment – his scent – burning like a forest fire in her nose. 

It’s only by sheer force of will that she catches herself at the door, hands clawing at the wood before she can run across Skyhold dressed in nothing but her shift. She holds her breath and drops to her knees, head spinning.

_He’s in heat._

Her mind reels, even as her body screams at her to go to him. To protect. To hold. To _claim_ .

She fights against it, holding onto rational thought by only the barest thread. It is the final confirmation she needs that Solas is, as she’d suspected, one of the ancients.

It had taken her no time at all to realise her attraction to him. Even less time to recognise that he returned it. But their first kiss in the Fade had been like a hurricane, and she’d only barely held herself back from tearing his clothes off there and then.

When she’d woken, alone in her bed, her entire body had been on fire, and thoughts that had made no sense clamoured for attention in her head. 

_Omega. Mate. Mine._

She had heard the words before, of course. Listened to the strange tales of the ancients told by Keeper Deshanna as any good Dalish First would. But she’d never expected to actually _feel_ them. 

She’d stayed away from Solas for the first half of the day, locked in her room as she pieced everything together. It was possible, she’d decided, that the Elvhen focus that had left the anchor on her hand had also awakened some long-buried instinct. That, at least, she could rationalise.

What was harder to understand was why her reaction to Solas, in particular, would be so intense.

In the end, she’d gone to him, watching closely as he’d flirted with her from behind the safe barrier of his desk, for any sign that he knew what was happening.

“Sleep well?” He’d asked, and the curve of his mouth had been so alluring that she was stunned to find she hadn’t simply launched herself over the wood and onto him. 

Still, she managed to hold herself back, unsure whether or not he had any awareness of what he was doing to her simply by being so near. 

She experimented.

Once she’d noticed his scent, she began to notice others. Sera had a sharp, citrus tang that was pleasant, but not affecting in the slightest. Dalish, in the Chargers, smelt of hot leather and sunlight, and she’d had a few untoward dreams about her following the discovery. 

But they were delicate, almost imperceptible hints of a long-lost biology. She hardly noticed them if she wasn’t seeking them out.

Solas, on the other hand, was like a tidal wave. No-one should smell like that. Like home. And heart. And _hers_.

It had been torture, to stay so close to him and keep her control. Even worse, was that she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was doing to her, or if he could feel the same instincts running through his blood. How could he? Only she had touched the focus. It was impossible that he could feel it too.

That was what she’d told herself, biting her fingernails into her hand and tearing gouges out of her lips whenever he overwhelmed her. He didn’t know. He couldn’t.

Until, one night on the Stormcoast, when they’d all been caught in a torrent of rain. She had traipsed back to camp with Bull, Dorian, and Solas, all of them soaking and cold, when the wind had changed direction, and she’d had to clap a hand over her mouth to stifle a groan.

In the water, his scent was amplified, and she’d been powerless to stop herself from turning her nose to face him. In the next moment, the gust of wind reversed direction, and suddenly, she was staring into the eyes of a man hopelessly lost to desire. His cheeks and ears flushed bright red; his pupils were blown wide, and his lips had parted around a moan that was thankfully lost to the wind.

In the next moment, just as she was about to pull him towards her and claim his mouth with her own, he’d clamped his jaw shut and turned, hurrying ahead with his hands balled into fists and his posture unbearably tense. And she’d known.

Everything had suddenly clicked into place. His uncanny knowledge of spirits and the Fade. His disdain for the Dalish. His mastery of the Elvhen language and his archaically painted frescoes. His tendency to hold himself apart and keep his own company. It all made sense.

_He was one of the ancients._

And what’s more, that meant that he could feel it too.

She exulted, even as her rational mind warned her to be wary. Why wouldn’t he tell her? Was this the only secret that made him hold himself back? Were there others? Did he know that he was meant for her?

She’d said nothing. She couldn’t. No matter what, she wouldn’t force him to submit; this proud man who held himself like a warrior. The thought of bringing him to heel made her nauseous. She would never take his choice away from him.

Instead, she’d pored over as many stories she could find about alphas and omegas, using the Inquisition’s resources to find ancient tomes and modern histories, desperate to understand what was happening to her.

What she’d found had made her equal parts horrified and joyful. There were terrible tales of omegas forced into slavery; surrendering free will to their alpha and powerless to refuse whatever they asked. These, she turned from as quickly as possible, burying them in the library vaults where she couldn’t see them anymore.

But there were others that spoke of soulmates, spirits joined together in an equal partnership. Alphas who protected, not conquered. Omegas who were claimed, but did not submit. 

The more she read, the more she wanted it to be true for them. They were meant to be together. She knew it as firmly as she’d ever known anything. And surely, he must know it too?

When he’d taken her to Crestwood, she’d been convinced that he was going to tell her everything. So, when he’d turned away from her, eyes a storm of hurt and his lips drawn into a pained line, the agony that had followed had been that much more difficult to bear. 

_He had rejected her._

She was his alpha. And he had sent her away.

Her very soul rebelled from the idea. It was against the natural order for an omega to reject their alpha. What was so wrong with her that he could even bear to do it? 

When he’d left, she’d fallen to the floor and wailed as she never had before. She was broken. Rejected. Unloved. The one person in the world that was meant to be hers didn’t want her. How could she ever recover?

They had barely spoken since.

But now. Now he was in heat, and every instinct she possessed screamed at her to go to him. Even across the castle, his scent was like a drug.

Herbs and parchment, in a storm of fire and need, and… _Distress?_

Her head snapped up from where she’d braced it against the ground. She sniffed the air again, and – yes. There it was. Pain and distress and _want_.

A whine tumbled from her throat and she scrambled to her feet. He _needed her_. His very scent was crying out for her to help him. To hold. To soothe. To claim.

In a daze, she pulled on her clothes, slipping out of her room and walking with fevered urgency across the castle.

As she drew nearer, his scent became thicker, driving her forward until she was practically running. By the time she reached his door, his anguish was almost a physical thing in the air, and it drove another desperate whine from her throat as she knocked at the wood.

“Solas?” She called softly. “Solas, are you ok?”

At first, there was no answer, and then a pained whimper met her ears and sent her instincts into a frenzy. 

“Solas,” she tried again, fighting to keep her voice steady as she pressed herself against the door. “Please. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

Another whimper, this one more desperate than the last, and she tried to force the lock unsuccessfully and swore, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

He was hers to protect, and he was in _pain_.

“Sathan, ma lath,” she begged. “Let me in. Solas. Vhenan.” She hesitated, and then dropped her voice to a hopeful whisper. “Omega?”

The effect was instant. An agonised groan ripped through the air, and in the next second she felt magic spark against the lock and the door flew open, bringing with it the most potent wave of scent yet that made her dizzy with need.

She stumbled blindly inside, slamming the door behind her and dropping to her knees, her eyes taking in the scene in front of her and drawing an anguished sound from her lips.

Solas was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes glazed and his tunic discarded somewhere behind him. His chest was flushed and slick with sweat, and he clutched a pillow to him as though it was the only thing holding him to the earth, his cheeks streaked with tears.

He met her gaze with a look of utter despair in his eyes, one hand reaching out uncertainly towards her, even as he held himself back.

“Alpha,” he whispered.

“Omega,” she breathed.

He flung himself off the bed with a howl, and in the next instant she had her arms around him while he buried his face against her neck, a keening noise rising in his throat as he lapped at her skin and wept.

“Alpha, alpha, alpha,” he mewled. “Forgive me. Ir abelas. Sathan. Please. Don’t leave me. Don’t send me away.”

She reacted instinctively, clutching him to her and licking a stripe up the blade of his ear.

The taste of him exploded across her tongue and they both groaned, Solas becoming limp and pliant in her arms as she trailed a path of kisses and licks along his jaw.

“Mine,” she breathed against his mouth. “You are _mine_.”

“Yes, yes,” he whimpered. “I am yours. Only yours. Please. Claim me. I want you so badly. Please, Ellana. Vhenan. _Alpha_.”

It was only then that she noticed he was rutting against her, his cock hard and insistent as it dragged across her leg. She moaned, claiming his mouth in a scorching kiss that he returned with all of the force of a lightning storm.

Magic sparked between them, sending the heat in her core into overdrive.

_Heart. Home. Mate._

She was lost to sensation as he clung to her, his hips grinding frantically into her leg and his hands clawing at her shirt, desperate to be closer.

Only the salt-sharp taste of his tears on her tongue gave her the strength to stay him.

“Solas,” she gasped.

“ _Alpha._ ”

The ragged way the word fell from his lips nearly shattered her self-control, but the stories she’d read of poorly-bonded mates screamed for her to stop. Bonding was rare. What’s more, it couldn’t be consented to in the middle of a heat, when hormones drove an omega out of their mind with need. 

She would not renew their relationship with an abuse of his very autonomy. She would not be that kind of alpha. Not for him. Not for her heart.

“Solas, stop.”

She managed to hold him away from her, catching his wrists between her hands and pinning them together. She had meant it to make him pause, but instead, he let out a delighted moan and tipped backwards, prostrating himself on the ground beneath her with his hands pinned above his head and his pupils blown wide.

“ _Yessss_ ,” he hissed, arching up into her touch and all but keening with pleasure.

Unbidden, an approving growl rumbled up her throat, making Solas buck his hips up into her and throw his head back in rapture.

She felt an insistent pulse between her legs as her eyes roved over him hungrily. He was perfect, spread out and submissive beneath her, his chest flushed and lips parted with desire. She couldn’t resist. She moved until she could straddle his hips, pinning his hands more firmly against the ground as she trailed her tongue across his chest and lapped at an aching nipple.

The wanton moan that left his mouth lit a fire in her core, and she rocked helplessly against the iron press of his straining arousal, the friction between them exquisite. 

“Yes, yes,” he gasped. “Vhenan, alpha, vhenan’ara. I need you. Please, don’t stop.”

She groaned, half-mad with desire even as her mind screamed at her to pull back. With an immense effort of will, she stilled the rocking of her hips, drawing a bereft noise from Solas as he thrashed beneath her.

“No,” she panted. “ _No_. Stop now, Solas. That’s enough.”

But he either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, stop. Instead, he forced his hands free and sat up, locking his arms around her back and crashing their mouths together, desperate little gasps slipping from his lips between fevered kisses. 

She moaned. Kissed him back. Licked across his bottom lip until he was whimpering. And then came back to her senses. 

A different kind of instinct kicked in; the instinct to protect, not simply to take without thought.

She took hold of the back of his neck firmly, tilting his head back, and then she leant forward, and very gently closed her teeth over the skin of his throat. He fought her, an outraged noise tearing from him as his omega instincts warred with his pride.

She growled, a low warning note, and bit down harder. She felt his pulse stutter beneath her lips, and then the fight went out of him and he whined, bending backwards in a supplicating gesture and turning boneless in her arms. Carefully, she released him, pressing a tender kiss to the imprints she’d made in his skin and shuddering as his scent overwhelmed her.

“Ir abelas,” he whimpered. “Please, vhenan. Alpha. Please.”

He trembled, and she felt fierce tears well in her eyes as she gazed down at him, desperate and pleading in her arms. Her chest swelled with the force of her love for him, and desire fell into the background. It couldn’t compete with the need to keep him safe.

He nuzzled at her throat, pressing insistent kisses to the skin beneath her jaw and clutching her close.

“What did I do wrong?” He asked brokenly. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please, my heart. Ma lath. I want you so badly. Please. Tell me what to do.”

Her heart breaks.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says softly against his ear, trailing her fingers over his back in an effort to comfort him. “But we can’t do this. Not now.”

At any other time, she knows, Solas would move away, and ask her calmly to explain. But this isn’t any other time. He is in heat, his very blood insisting that he _must_ be claimed. His reaction to her words is instant and devastating.

He lets out a cry of pure grief against her throat, and the sound sends a knife straight through her heart. He clings to her, voice rising in formless agony as more tears tumble down his cheeks. 

“Hush, ma lath,” she whispers desperately, pulling him into her chest. “It’s ok. I didn’t mean-”

But her words are cut off by a stream of broken Elvhen, spoken so quickly against her neck that she can hardly make any of it out. Despite her lack of understanding, the tone of his voice makes his meaning clear. Contrition. Despair. Fervent apologies for whatever he has failed to do or has done that would mean she doesn’t want him. 

_Please, please forgive me. Tell me what failing I have that means you don’t want me. I promise to do better. I promise to fix it. I am yours. Please, want me. Please, don’t send me away even though I’ve already disappointed you._

She can’t help the lump that rises in her throat in response to his distress. For a time, when she knew that he felt the same way and assumed that they would be together – that he would tell her everything - she had delighted in this new part of herself. Who wouldn’t want to find a love like this? Who wouldn’t want to have a soulmate of their own to protect, and know that they loved you equally in return?

But in this moment, she is horrified by the biology that has sent her strong, proud heart into this spiral of despair. Disgusted by the hormones that would make him believe he has to cower and beg to be worthy of her love. Her decision not to claim him like this solidifies even further, but she can’t bear to let him believe he’s been rejected either.

She pulls back to cradle his face in her hands, and meets pleading eyes as she presses a tender kiss to his trembling lips. The sigh he makes in response is so vulnerable and full of relief, that she can’t help but linger there, soothing him with soft kisses until he all but melts in her arms.

“I need you to listen to me, ma lath,” she says softly at last. “Can you do that for me? For your alpha?”

He lets out another needy sigh, his breath hot against her lips and his expression open and vulnerable. He nods, his hands still tight on her waist.

“I promise,” he rasps. “I promise I’ll listen.”

She rewards him with another kiss, her heart clenching when he leans his forehead against her cheek and nuzzles lightly.

“I won’t claim you-” She begins, and then instantly has to hold him as he lets out another stricken cry and begins to wail into her neck.

“No, no vhenan, please,” he weeps. “I’ll be better, I promise. Whatever you want, I’m-”

She cuts him off with a gentle hand over his mouth, and he looks back at her with anguish while she trails another series of kisses over his forehead.

“You promised you’d listen, remember?” She says, her hand still over his mouth and her thumb running along his jaw. “I know it’s difficult right now but I need you to pay attention. Can you do that for me?”

He nods and brings his hand up to hold her wrist, his eyes still shining with tears and his face flushed.

“I won’t claim you _this heat_ ,” she clarifies, holding his gaze. 

When he doesn’t immediately panic, she slowly removes her hand, and he lets out a soft whimper and blinks more tears down his cheeks.

“But I am _yours_ ,” he whispers brokenly. “Don’t you want me?”

In response, she kisses him fiercely. When they break apart again, he looks more confused than ever, and his eyes are dark pools of desire.

“ _Of course_ I want you,” she says. “You are my heart. Ma’sa’lath. My _mate_. But I will not take you without your consent.”

His eyes widen and he lets out a shuddering breath, already tugging at her clothes again.

“I _do_ consent,” he insists, half-delirious with need. “I want you so badly. I’ve been alone for so long. Please, alpha. Please claim me. I don’t want to be alone anymore”

He mouths at her neck, panting desperately as his hips begin to roll again and he tries to push her backwards. His scent fills her nose and she chokes on a moan, only just hanging on to her thoughts for long enough to keep him at arm’s length.

“Solas,” she commands, the tone of an alpha ringing through her words. “You _will_ obey me.”

He relents at once, a sorrowful noise cutting off in his throat as he bends in supplication again. She hates to see him so cowed. 

“Ir abelas. Forgive me,” he pleads. 

“This is why I will not claim you now,” she tells him softly. “You would never beg like this if you weren’t in heat. Don’t you understand, my heart?”

He shakes his head, his expression wretched.

“You are my omega,” she insists. “But I don’t want you to submit. _Ar lath ma_. I want to protect you. To keep you safe. I want for you to be able to trust me.”

He watches her with wide eyes, hardly seeming to breathe.

“There are things you’ve been keeping from me.”

At that, he lets out another cry, and she claps a hand over his mouth again before he can start spilling secrets without thought.

“I don’t want you to tell me now,” she insists. “I want you to tell me when you’re in your right mind. Because you trust me.”

To her shock, this only draws a grief-stricken sound against her hand, and he curls into himself as though she’s struck him.

“I can’t,” he says. “If I do, you will leave me, and I will be alone again. I don’t want to be alone anymore, vhenan. I _can’t_.”

This sets off another wave of sobbing that pulls at her heart and makes her blood ripple with wrongness. It is her job to take care of him, and all she’s done is make things worse. She whispers this to him as she holds him, apologising for not being a good alpha; for not being what he needs.

It’s this, at last, that seems to shake away some of the fog of his heat and return him to some semblance of coherence. 

“No,” he argues at once. “It is not _your_ fault. I am to blame, and that is why you won’t want me. When you know…” His voice cracks. “Oh, my alpha. After all these years. Please. Please say you will still want me. I don’t think I could bear to leave you a second time.”

He’s so open and vulnerable that she kisses him again, soft, slow, rolling kisses that leave them both trembling, and paint a feverish blush over his skin.

“I will always want you,” she promises. 

For now, it seems to be enough to calm him, and eventually he falls asleep, tucked against her side in a tangle of sweat-soaked blankets. 

She watches his face while he dreams; the way the blush moves over his cheeks and across the tips of his ears; the furrow of his brow; the unhappy down-turn of his mouth that relaxes into a soft smile when she runs her fingertips over the bow of his lips.

Her heart is so full of love for him that she’s not sure her body can contain it. Whatever it is that he needs to tell her, she knows she will still be his. She can hardly imagine a world in which they’re parted. 

Maybe that world will come to pass, but for now they are together, and she will watch over him while he sleeps. He is hers to keep safe. 

She only hopes she can save him from himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ir abelas - I'm sorry  
> Ar isalan na - I need you  
> Vhenan'ara - Heart's desire


End file.
